Location: HYDRA Facility, Romania — Subterranean Level 9
She had been in this cell for twenty-one days.
No light. No sound. Just the stale air and cold metal of her cage. Three weeks of the same routine: they'd come in, draw her blood, scrape tissue, collect saliva, drop off food like she was some rare lab rat. Then they'd leave—never speaking, never staying.
Her body healed fast. Too fast. They liked that. More samples.
Jessica sat curled in the corner, knees tucked under her chin, eyes half-lidded. She wasn't sleeping. Sleep invited memories.
She remembered getting sick as a child. A strange illness—cellular breakdown, her father had called it. But he'd cured her. That's what he'd said.
Only the cure had frozen her, locked her in a coma while her body remained a ten-year-old shell. She didn't age, not until they woke her.
Otto Vermis had been the first face she saw.
He told her her father had left. That Otto was her new guardian, her teacher. "Your father entrusted you to us," he had said. A lie, like all the others.
Hydra had raised her—no, trained her. How to fight. How to vanish. How to kill. How to seduce. She learned quickly. She had no choice.
But as she grew older, their control began to crack. The world wasn't what they told her. The daily "education tapes" became noise. Her will grew teeth.
And one day, she ran.
She lived off their teachings—used their own tricks to hide. She stole, blended in, moved like a shadow through cities she'd only seen on Hydra maps. She discovered what Hydra truly was—what they'd done to her, to others.
But she forgot one thing: everything she knew, they had taught her.
They found her. Captured her. Quietly. No spectacle.
No punishment. No lectures. Just straps, needles, scalpels. She wasn't a rogue agent now—just a resource. Blood. Tissue. DNA.
Jessica stared blankly at the steel wall. Her spider-sense tingled.
Then flared.
She bolted upright. Something—someone—was appearing in her cell, high in the air, like a mirage made real. A young man dropped midair, touching something on his wrist—
Then he hit the ground with a grunt, and his entire body liquefied.
White.
A flood of white tendrils and slime spread like spilled paint, writhing with alien purpose. Her breath caught in her throat.
What the hell?!
The goo surged toward her.
Jessica screamed and leapt back, but there was nowhere to run. The stuff hit her feet—and climbed. Fast. Skin to skin, crawling up her legs, her waist, her arms, her face.
She struggled for half a second—then it pierced her mind.
Heat. Power. Clarity. The pain was gone.
Her muscles flexed like steel cables. Her vision sharpened. Her spine straightened as if waking up from a second coma—and for the first time in years, she felt alive.
Connected.
And not alone.
POV change
One moment, he was in the car, replying to Kevin.
The next—he was falling.
[Teleport initiated. Thought Acceleration activated.]
Time slowed. Sound dulled. The drop stretched into infinity.
[Clarification: One second now equals one million subjective seconds. That's 11.5740741 days, to be precise.]
"Cool flex," Nathan muttered mentally. "But maybe focus on not dying?"
His magic sense kicked in. He was in a cell—cold, reinforced metal. Not alone. Someone else was in there with him, tense and ready, like a coiled spring dipped in blood.
No time to think. The H-Omnitrix wasn't active—he had no idea what form he'd get. But standing there in his squishy human skin while someone possibly lethal sized him up?
Yeah, no thanks.
He slammed the dial.
Light exploded across his body—and then he wasn't a person anymore.
He was liquid. Alive. A writhing network of shifting tendrils and muscle memory. Every part of him was something, and everything moved with thoughtless precision.
[Transformation: Anti-Venom. Host requirement detected. Immediate fusion suggested with nearby subject.]
Thanks, Raphael. No pressure.
Nathan's instincts took over. He poured across the floor—faster than her reflexes. She tried to back away, but hit the wall.
And then… contact.
She gasped.
He melted onto her.
Warmth. Nerves. Pulse. Skin.
So much skin.
He didn't just cover her—he bonded. They merged. He could feel her—everywhere. Her movements, her tension, her instinct to fight. Even fragments of surface thoughts—confused, angry, suspicious, scared.
And—
...was that a memory of her in a Hydra training suit doing yoga?
Focus, Nathan.
He tried not to think about the fact that he was now, technically, naked and clinging to a very attractive super-spy like a full-body second skin. That her breath hitched when the connection solidified. That his form definitely wasn't loose in certain areas.
"Oh god, I'm the suit now," he muttered mentally. "This is the weirdest boner I've ever had."
[Negative, Your mind is aroused but you do not have any bodily reaction.]
"You're not the one glued to a hot girl."
But then something deeper clicked—and his humor shut off.
He knew who this was.
Jessica Drew. The original Spider-Woman. Hydra's twisted science project. The one they raised, trained, brainwashed.
And judging from her surface thoughts… she hated them now. Good.
Because they were deep in a Hydra base. Underground. Locked in a cell. And judging from the smell of sterilizers, steel, and failure, probably not close to the gift shop.
He pulsed once around her, stabilizing the bond.
Time to wreck some fascist science labs.
POV kinda changed
What—what the hell is happening?! Jessica's thoughts cracked like lightning, raw and jagged with panic. Who are you? What are you?!
Nathan's voice answered, calm but urgent, like someone juggling grenades.
Easy. I'm not Hydra. I'm not here to hurt you. You're safe. Well… sort of.
She froze—figuratively. Her body wouldn't move anyway, not without his goop-layer cooperating.
This isn't real, she thought, wild and rapid. This is another test. Another drug. Another damn simulation—
It's not, Nathan interrupted gently, pushing reassurance through the bond. I swear, I'm real. I don't know how I got here either. Random teleport. Lucky for both of us, I guess.
A pause. Then a whisper of thought not aimed at him, but echoing into their link regardless: Three weeks. Three weeks alone. No one to talk to. Just metal. Needles. Empty air.
Nathan softened, even as Anti-Venom's instincts surged with violence at the memories leaking through.
That's over now. You're not alone anymore, Jess.
She stiffened.
How do you know my name?
Because I know who you are. His tone lowered, intimate. Jessica Drew. You were a kid when your father tried to save you, but Hydra twisted it all. You didn't ask for any of this. And you've been fighting to stay you ever since. I'm not here to control you. I want to help.
She didn't respond. But the panic… faded. Her thoughts, once fragmented, began to smooth.
You can really… hear me?
Yeah. Nathan smiled internally. And you can hear me. Surface thoughts only—unless you really want to scream something embarrassing at me, in which case, go nuts.
A flicker of surprise. Then, You're joking? After you just covered my entire body like some alien full-body latex suit?
Nathan grinned.
Hey, I'm trying to lighten the mood. You've been isolated for weeks. I figured sarcasm might go over better than an inspirational speech.
Her mental silence lingered a beat.
Then came a pulse of warmth. …Thank you.
Something in her voice cracked there—soft, vulnerable. She hadn't spoken, not truly spoken, in weeks. No fake agents, no lies, no test subjects. Just… silence. And now a voice was in her head, real and warm and alive.
Nathan took a breath—metaphorically—and then spoke gently.
Listen. I'm going to get you out of here. I don't know the layout, and I don't know who's running this base—but I have some skills, and a very unreasonably powerful watch. All I need from you… is trust.
She hesitated.
Why would you help me?
Because you deserve better. And because—frankly—I'd rather not be in a Hydra murder basement any longer than necessary. So we work together, yeah? I'll fight. You guide. We punch our way out, no strings. Just… don't fight me.
Her emotions flickered: suspicion, longing, exhaustion… hope.
Deal, she said quietly.
He felt it—that fragile flicker of connection. Something warm in her chest. Not just relief… but gratitude. Real, human need.
And beneath it all, Nathan could feel her beginning to trust.
She moved first.
A breath—then her muscles surged. The white bio-organic suit wrapped around her body flexed, joints reinforced, heels bracing against cold steel floor. She raised her arm, and Nathan responded before she could even speak:
Go for it.
A spear-like Anti-Venom spike exploded from her wrist like a silent gunshot. The metal cell door shrieked as it tore from its hinges, melted partially by acidic secretion and warped from sheer brute force.
Whoa, she thought, adrenaline lighting her up like a Christmas tree. This… feels amazing.
Nathan just rode along, letting her lead the dance. She moved with the grace of a trained assassin—but now her every step had impact. Her punches cracked reinforced steel. Her kicks shattered locks. When she ran, she skimmed the floor like a predatory blur.
Nathan kept the armor flexible, shifting texture with her instincts, but occasionally injecting subtle support—extra force behind a punch, a sharpened elbow spike mid-spin, a shield across her back when plasma bolts came flying. She didn't even need to ask.
They tore through the corridor and climbed—clawed—up through maintenance tunnels and emergency shafts, bypassing bulkheads, moving toward whatever counted as "up" in this subterranean Hydra pit.
Jessica spotted the first cluster of white-coated scientists trying to retreat—four men, three women, all scrambling toward an emergency blast door.
She didn't hesitate.
Wait, Nathan thought, but she was already moving.
She dashed forward like a bullet in human shape, grabbed the first one by the collar, and snapped his neck with a twist. The second and third didn't even have time to scream—she gutted one with an elbow spike and crushed the other's throat with a palm strike. Blood sprayed across the wall.
Nathan twitched.
...Damn.
She didn't slow. The remaining scientists screamed—begged—but she didn't even blink. She ran one through with a spike, kicked the last two into a wall hard enough to shatter bone.
They locked me in a glass cage for days. Didn't speak. Didn't blink. Didn't treat me like a person.
Nathan read her thoughts as they flared behind the killings—not rage, not vengeance. Just… cold clarity. And trauma.
They weren't people to her. They were the scalpel-wielders. The monsters in white.
Nathan said nothing.
He didn't agree with needles murder. Knowing they weren't just imprisoned scientists he didn't mind the killing.
...They had it coming, he finally thought, and didn't interfere again.
Red alarms burst to life.
A distorted klaxon screamed through the walls, echoing like something alive and angry. Emergency lights washed the corridor in crimson.
That's when they came.
From the shadows ahead, the air shuddered as something wrong spilled in.
Humanoid figures.
Malformed.
One had too many eyes and too few jaws. Another had a spider leg sprouting from its shoulder, twitching like a puppet string. Their bodies were once human—maybe volunteers, maybe prisoners—but now twisted by forced grafts and failed serums.
Jessica froze mid-step.
What the hell—?
Nathan's thoughts were dark.
Hydra made spider-chimeras. Guess they weren't done playing god.
The swarm of broken things hissed as one—and charged.
Jessica snarled. Let me fight.
Always. Just say the word.
She leapt forward, venom spikes sliding across her knuckles like blades. The first abomination lunged—she grabbed it mid-air, twisted its malformed leg, and ripped it off, beating the next one with it like a club.
Nathan amplified her strike with a pulse of raw power—bones crunched, jaws shattered. Every hit echoed with Anti-Venom's fury.
They moved together now.
One mind, two instincts. Her speed. His adaptability.
Behind them, more of the creatures poured in. Crawling across the ceiling. Crawling on walls. Chittering. Clicking. Limbs too long. Spines exposed.
Nathan sent a thought, sharp and fast.
Don't hold back.
Jessica's grin was feral.
Wasn't planning to.
The corridor exploded into chaos.
A slaughter began.
The screaming stopped.
Jessica and Nathan, still wrapped together in Anti-Venom's gleaming armor, stood over the twitching remains of the last chimera. Sticky gore dripped from the ceiling. Broken limbs littered the corridor.
The clang of torn steel and twitching limbs had finally faded behind them. Jessica stalked ahead, sleek and silent in Anti-Venom's skin, body humming with predatory tension. Nathan, deeper within, tracked every footfall, every shift in air pressure. He was ready.
The stairwell ended in a large octagonal chamber.
Waiting at its center stood a man. Tall. Calm. Barefoot. Sword drawn.
And blindfolded.
Jessica stopped. So did Nathan.
His voice was low, cultured. "A pity. I'd hoped you'd die in the lower floors. Less work."
Nathan whispered into their link, "That sword… it's pristine. Not even a scratch. Either he's never been touched… or no one survives long enough to make him try."
Jessica's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening. "Then let's be the first to push him."
She moved.
Gorgon's blade slashed sideways, a perfect arc.
Jessica ducked under it, fluid as mercury, and launched a kick into his ribs—but it met only air. He was already gone, drifting backward like mist, pivoting on bare feet. The sword whirled again, a whisper of death.
Nathan reacted, shifting mass across her back—armor hardening instinctively. CLANG.
The blade glanced off the Anti-Venom shield.
Jessica twisted, used the rebound to spring forward with a lunging elbow.
This one hit.
Gorgon staggered back.
"Hmm." He touched his lip. Blood. "Not bad."
He advanced. Faster now.
They exchanged a flurry of blows—fist, blade, spike, flip. Jessica lashed out with venom-coated claws; Gorgon deflected with the flat of his blade. Nathan launched an anti-venom spike toward his flank—Gorgon pivoted, slicing it mid-air without turning his head.
"He's blindfolded, but he still knows where we are. How—?"
"Sound? Scent? Pressure?" Nathan guessed. "Maybe just instinct."
"Then let's break his rhythm."
They surged forward together—Jessica high, Nathan low, shifting weight, spikes, mass, momentum. For a few precious seconds, they pressed him.
A slice through his sleeve.
A kick to the chest that sent him sliding back.
The Anti-Venom fused skin steamed and pulsed with heat. Jessica was breathing hard, but her mind was focused.
"We've got him—"
The sword stopped.
Gorgon straightened.
"You're... coordinated," he admitted. "Not like the others."
He reached for the knot on his blindfold.
"But you're not ready."
Jessica froze.
Nathan's danger sense shrieked.
"Wait—!"
The blindfold hit the floor.
And Gorgon opened his eyes.
There was no flash. No beam. No visible change.
But reality itself shivered.
Jessica gasped. Her fingers twitched.
Then locked.
Gray crawled along her forearm.
"No—no—Nathan—"
Nathan felt it too. The body they shared—slowing, freezing. Like time was folding inward. Petrification wasn't just physical—it was conceptual. They were being unmade.
Nathan tried to breathe, but even thought felt heavy.
Stone began crawling up Jessica's neck.
And then—